


Price of a Kiss

by itakethewords (BluntBetty)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Charity Event, Established Relationship, Husbands in love, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, ask me about why the new doggo is called Momo lol, raising money for a cause
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluntBetty/pseuds/itakethewords
Summary: Let's do this for charity! It will be fun! Except it wasn't. Yuuri was in the kissing booth and all Viktor could do was pout about it. Because it was his idea, after all.





	Price of a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Because I needed to read some smooches. Also, jealous Viktor.

“You’re staring, old man. It’s disgusting.”

Viktor let out a sigh, ignoring Yurio’s scathing remarks as he continued to watch his husband from his assigned spot across the park next a surly Yuri Plisetsky. He had to swallow another sigh of longing as a group of teens came up to his booth and asked for photos and to play with Makkachin and their newest family member, Momo. Instead, he greeted them with a large smile and invited them to get close. From the corner of his eye, he could see Yurio giving mini lessons in dance to budding ballerinas and ballerinos wearing borrowed tutus and in stockinged feet. 

Meanwhile, across the field, Yuuri was managing his less than modest and slightly overwhelming line of those gladly paying more for a kiss on the cheek than a cup of coffee from a global Seattle company. And Viktor had no one to blame but himself because it was his idea to do the event and it was he who signed up a growling Yurio, an excited Mila, a dramatic Georgi with his girlfriend Irina, a silent visiting Otabek Altin, and the resigned Yuuri, as well as half of the other athletes who used their facilities that had a presence in their sport. 

Months before, his agent had come to him after Yuuri and Yurio’s practice and inquired about a possible opportunity to do some charity work. Given the date of the event was a handful of weeks after the end of the season and World’s, Viktor had heartily agreed after reading the details. He even volunteered bodies to draw in the crowds for things other than the booths.

Now, six months later, here they were, running carnival-style booths and activities to raise money for children in foster care and the adoption system. Most of the activities were harmless fun, but never had Viktor stopped to consider there would be some activities even someone as tactile as he winced at. Mostly because it was Yuuri’s assigned activity.

A Kissing Booth.

A. Kissing. Booth.

Strangers were paying to kiss his husband.

Of course, there were rules. They couldn’t kiss Yuuri and they could only choose specific, safe spots for him to kiss. The hand, cheek, forehead. People paid four hundred rubles for a kiss and there were people going in line multiple times to get one from the Japanese skater. He was, after all, a man who finished his final season on five gold medals to add to his plethora of gold, silver, and bronze from the last three years under Viktor--including his olympic gold from 2018. In short, Yuuri was a hot ticket item for this charity event and between the two of them, the Living Legend and the Japanese Ace, and several other sport headliners, they were the main draws for the crowds. 

When Viktor was told he and the dogs could take a break, he lead the canines to the volunteer tent where they could get treats and lay in the shade and where Viktor could get his own snacks and some water.  Just before he left the tend to meander and check out the fares for himself, Yurio came in, grumbling.

At nineteen, it was clear in the last three years he’d shot up like a weed and filled out more than anyone had expected. He was just over six feet tall and had Viktor in the category of broad shoulders. The year after he won his first senior grand prix, he missed half the season due to his growth spurts and having to refind his center of gravity and relearn the way his body could move. When he came back, missing the grand prix series altogether and going straight to Euros, he asked Viktor to be his coach that following fall. His silver at World’s this past year was bittersweet, losing to Yuuri but knowing he no longer had that competition and instead had to worry about skaters like Phichit, Kenjirou, Leo, and Otabek, to name a few. Even the newer skaters were impressive, if not inconsistent. Something Viktor, Yurio, and Yuuri all agreed on. It was this kind of close relationship of coach and skater that allowed Yurio to be able to walk into the tent, take one look at the older man, and roll his eyes.

“Why are you so upset that Katsudon is doing that booth? You realize he’d never actually cheat on you, right? The two of you are disgustingly in love.” Throwing himself into a chair with a plate of crackers, cheese, and mini pastries, he began shoveling them into his mouth all while ignoring a keen-eyed Momo at his feet. 

“That’s not the point. Yuuri’s kisses are all mine.”

Yurio snorted. “Not according to the charity. And that booth he’s at. He’s not a cheap kiss, either.”

“Yurio….”

“Listen, old man. You should be happy. Some of the higher ups were talking outside the tent and they said Katsudon’s brought in more money than half the other booths combined. Be thankful.”

Viktor could only pout as he watched Makkachin snooze lightly, his older dog enjoying the shade and quiet of the tent. Despite being a social and loveable dog, her age was catching up to her and she was just as happy to nap and cuddle as she was to have an occasional bout of playing. Momo, on the other hand, was still a puppy and full of energy. She would go between begging for snacks from Yurio to yipping at Makkachin and greeting others who were in the tent. Checking his watch, taking his eyes off the small ivory-colored pooch for a moment, Viktor saw that he still had a good twenty minutes before he was expected back with at least one of the dogs, he was certain it would be the Viktor and Momo Show when they went back out, he decided to take a walk around the park and visit the other booths. And if he happened to come across Yuuri’s booth and caught him in a chance to talk, then it was all coincidence. 

He took his time, making small talk with the athletes, various persons from the organization, and a few fans who said hello. When he came up to Yuuri’s kissing booth, he was a little dismayed to see that he still had a line, though much thinner than earlier. Only a dozen were waiting for a peck from his husband. With a start, he snuck around to the entrance of the constructed, somewhat tackily decorated booth and sidled up to Yuuri just as he pecked a teen girl on the cheek and waved her away. 

“V-viktor Nikiforov?! Are you giving kisses, too?” The next person in line, a middle aged woman with wide blue eyes surrounded by thick mascara stuttered at the sight of him appearing.

“Viktor?” Yuuri turned, his pleasant (yet faintly uncomfortable) and soft smile morphed to an open O of surprise before a pleased grin appeared. “What are you doing here?”

Viktor smiled at his husband before picking up his hand and kissing him on the back of the hand. “I missed you, wanted to come see how it was going over here.”

Yuuri couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Turning to the line, he said, “Do you guys mind if I have five minutes with Viktor?”

There was a garble of groans, agreements, and sighs of various natures and one person near the front saying, “Wait, does that mean Viktor  _ isn’t _ giving out kisses either?”

“No, no. If you want to visit with me, come see me in my booth with Makka and Momo. I’m just taking a quick break right now!” Viktor smiled, waving as Yuuri pulled him just out of the line of sight for the people eager to pay for Katsuki Kisses.

“Is something wrong, Viktor?” Yuuri asked, taking off his glasses to clean the lenses. 

Viktor shook his head before realizing his husband probably couldn’t see him. “Nope. I just missed you.” He brought Yuuri to him and gave him a hug, breathing in the scent of lingering detergent, the tab of cologne he’d put on that morning, and the slight sweat of standing outside all day that had accumulated at the nape of his neck. The smell was overwhelmingly Katsuki-Nikiforov Yuuri and Viktor loved it.

“Please,” Yuuri scoffed, putting his glasses back on. “I saw the faces you were making earlier and Yurio scolding you. Are you jealous?” The younger man let out a chuckle before reciprocating the hug.

“Yuuri, you’re so cruel! Can’t I miss my husband?” He gave the shorter man a peck. 

He loved when Yuuri grinned. He loved when that easy, casual love and affection came on his husband’s face. And he would call him his husband every moment he could both in his thoughts and out loud if he could. Being able to say that Yuuri was his husband, his partner, his student, his everything, it was an honor. Viktor laid several more pecks across Yuuri’s face, making the man giggle and squirm in his arms.

“Hey! If we have to pay for a kiss, so do you!”

Freezing, the two turned to see that the line had prime view of their cute display of affection, resulting from them taking a few steps backward as they hugged. The woman who was next in line had a pout on her face and her hands on her hips. Several others who could see the scene agreed, if their mumbles were anything to go by. Others who were quieter had various degrees of flushes on their faces.

Viktor huffed. “I’ve already agreed to match whatever the event makes for the charity. I think that buys me as many kisses as I want.”

“Viktor, stop being jealous!” Yuuri smirked up at him, pushing him away slightly. “I need to get back to the booth.” He laughed when Viktor pouted.

Viktor watched as the loud woman and the next three all got their expensive kisses from Yuuri, amusement radiating from the Japanese man with each peck. Despite knowing he was late getting back to his own doggie booth, Viktor didn’t care. He wanted to stew in his jealousy and rile himself up. He wanted to smother Yuuri in kisses himself. He wanted Yuuri.

The next person at the booth had their money in hand, looking nervous between Yuuri and the shadow that was Viktor at the back of the booth. Yuuri smiled softly, tilting his head at the slightly jumpy boy in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked. “Viktor won’t do anything, I promise. He just is put out he doesn’t have my undivided attention,” he said, winking. 

The boy, more than likely around sixteen or seventeen, shook his head. “T-that’s not it. I was wondering if… If instead of kissing me, you would… If you would give Viktor a kiss?”

Viktor’s eyebrows shot upward and he was sure Yuuri’s did the same. Was the boy willing to give up his kiss because the older Russian was being petulant or was he a fanboy?

“You’d give up your kiss?” Yuuri asked, confused. 

He nodded. “Yes… I’m pretty sure the whole line would pay just to see you kiss.” The flush that dusted his cheeks began to threaten a takeover of his face and neck, embarrassment and excitement clear in his tone of voice. “The two of you are heroes, inspirations in skating and total couples goals, so…” 

Viktor didn’t hesitate to step forward and wrap an arm around Yuuri’s waist, ignoring when the man jumped slightly at the sudden touch. “What do you say, Yuuri? Should we give the people what they want?” He waggled his eyebrows, drawing a laugh from both Yuuri and the boy. 

“Eh?”

Viktor used his free hand to point to the bucket where the donations were being deposited and, after seeing the four hundred rubles sink in, he spun Yuuri around on the spot, pulled him close, and joined their lips together, sealing the gasp that came out of his husband’s lips between the two of them.

Yuuri seemed frozen on the spot for only a moment before sinking into the kiss and Viktor relished in the action. Framing Yuuri’s face with the gentlest of hands, he poured a mix of his jealousy, possession, and unconditional love through his lips and into the kiss. The friction of their lips and hints of tongue at the seams with puffs of hot breath only spurred them on and Viktor was thrilled to feel Yuuri’s fingers play with the short hairs at the base of his neck.

Distantly, he could hear the  _ ping _ and shuffle of money being dropped into the bucket but he ignored the gasps and giggles that accompanied them for the sounds, so faint, of Yuuri trying to keep his own moans in check.

“Misters Katsuki-Nikiforov! This is hardly the venue to do such activities!”

They broke apart somewhat reluctantly, with Yuuri burying his red face in Viktor’s chest at the flustered and irritated face of the event organizer herself, Mrs Pavlova. Viktor, annoyed with the interruption and uncaring of their audience and now overflowing bucket of cash, turned to face the woman with a cold smile.

“Whatever do you mean? This  _ is _ a kissing booth, after all!”

“But we agreed that Yuuri would do the kissing! Why aren’t you in your assigned booth?” The woman’s brows furrowed, catching full bucket in her sights, confused. 

Viktor shrugged, keeping an arm around Yuuri’s center as the Japanese man finally showed his face from what he perceived was the safety of his husband’s chest and it was all he could do to keep from smirking smugly at the bee stung lips his lover now possessed. No one left in line, now crowded around the mouth of the booth, complained. Rather, they looked put out that the kiss that had been ramping up had been interrupted so needlessly. 

“I wanted a kiss. At the kissing booth. Is that so much to ask for?”

“Really, Viktor. Go get Momo and Makka and get back to your photo booth.” Yuuri, much to his displeasure, pulled away and straightened his clothes. “I’m only supposed to be the feature at this booth until three and it’s two thirty now. I’ll come to you when it’s time for me to join you and the dogs at your booth.”

It took several minutes of cajoling on both Yuuri and Mrs Pavlova’s parts, not to mention many groans of semi-disappointment from the crowd, for Viktor to leave, properly chastised for neglecting his duties. When he went back to the tent to fetch Momo, he saw Makkachin happily chewing on a rawhide and a departing Yurio with his scowl just for him. 

Forty-five minutes later, after Viktor waved a mother and her twin daughters away, he laughed as he saw Momo’s tail wag so hard, his behind went faster than the front half of him. Looking over his shoulder to see what made the pup so happy and excited, he let out a gasp and skipped to Yuuri who stood just outside the playpen where Momo was yipping at the sight of his other dad, leaning on a post.

“Yuuri!”

Viktor was taken back when, instead of his usual greeting or a hug, Yuuri pulled him forward by his t-shirt and crashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. When he let Viktor up for air, it was Viktor with the red face and struggling to catch his breath.

“Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov, next time, just admit to being jealous. Okay?”

Viktor could only nod, his lips shaping into a grin as his heart warmed at the sight of a Yuuri with a crooked grin and shining eyes. He hummed, placing a thumb on Yuuri’s bottom lip and pressing gently, silently reveling in the way he could both hear and feel Yuuri’s breath catch.

“Promise,” Viktor murmured before leaning down and kissing his husband once more.

Pulling away, Yuuri’s smirk grew as he held out a hand to a confused Viktor.

“That’ll be eight hundred rubles.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?  
> Also, I might be persuaded to write a drabble on how Momo got his name. Convince me.


End file.
